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Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?	By : JustMeAgain Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Batman (All Movies) > Batman (All Movies) Views: 1631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from DC comics, the Batman franchise (comics or Nolan-verse), I don't own The Crow or any of the songs mentioned in this story. The only tihing I own is the original character. I make no money from any of this.

Chapter List
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~~~~~ 1994 ~~~~~
My parents had Jack arrested, claiming he was trying to rob them. They had a restraining order put on him, and his parents retaliated by placing one on me. My mother told me she got a letter from the guidance counselor, Mrs. Glenn, voicing her concerns about Jack and me. "I didn’t believe her. Not after we expressly forbade you from seeing him. I knew he was trouble when he wrecked his father’s car."
"That was an accident..."
"Jack Napier is the accident." She snipped. "No, it wasn’t until Conseula told me she’d seen him sneaking onto the property... Rebecca, how could you be so stupid? It’s obvious he only went to you to get into your father’s safe. He’s going to be a career criminal. It’s his father’s fault for marrying that drunk white trash..." I couldn’t stop myself. I threw myself at my mother, intent on ripping her face off. She bellowed like the cow she was and spilled her red wine all over herself and the Louis XVI divan when I tackled her to the floor. I clawed at her face, but my father snatched me off her. I tore the pearl necklace from her throat as I was dragged off her, and the pink pearls littered the rug. My father held my arms locked in his while kneeling on the floor behind me. I’d wound up on my ass with my dress hiked to my hips. I struggled against my father’s grip, and my mother scrambled away from me.
"Conseula! Call Dr. Palmer! Tell him it’s an emergency!" Father shouted.
"Oh my God, Henry! Look at her stomach!" My mother pointed. I immediately ceased fighting. My father didn’t relent his grip. "Rebecca... are you? No, you can’t be." Mother bit her lip and tears streaked eyeliner down her face. I realized I could hurt her far worse with words than I could with my hands.
"It’s mine and Jack’s. I don’t know if we made the baby on the dining room table, the divan, or on the stairs. Maybe it was in your bed. Either way, I’m in my second trimester now. I’m having our son, and you can’t stop me. They won’t do an abortion once you’re in your second trimester." I informed her. She slumped onto the floor, and I giggled at her. "Congratulations, Mother. That drunk white trash is part of the family now."
"Stop it." She said softly.
"Oh, and thanks for the Tracker. We’ve fucked in that thing even more than in here."
"Stop it!" She exclaimed and covered her ears with balled up fists.
"You should see him, Mother. He’s got a HUGE cock. It’s no wonder I got knocked up so fa..." My father hit me. He punched my mouth. I took advantage of his loosened grip and turned on him. He swatted me away from him, and I fell back, hitting my head on the marble topped coffee table.
I woke up in my own bed, but my room didn’t smell right. I usually burned cinnamon candles or jasmine incense, but there was a sterile medicinal odor cloaking everything. I could even taste it coating my tongue. My head ached, and I was freezing. "Are you awake?" I snapped my head to see the doctor sitting at my bedside.
"What happened?" I croaked. Dr. Palmer raised his bushy eyebrows at me.
"I should be asking you the same thing. What’s gotten into you? Getting pregnant, trying to run away and attacking your poor parents? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, young lady." He scolded. I was still too loopy feeling from whatever they’d given me to defend myself.
"What did you give me? The baby..." I mumbled.
"Isn’t going to be around for long. Your parents requested an abortion." I immediately sat up, but I found my hands were restrained.
"No! I won’t let you! You can’t anyhow. I’m in my second trimester." I scrambled on the bed, trying to protect my stomach from him by pulling up my legs.
"According to your parents you can’t be more than six weeks along..."
"I’m almost sixteen weeks! There’s records at the free clinic!"
"Well, it’s too late to verify that. I’ve been administering the drugs for two days. Probably tonight you’ll spontaneously abort. Even if you don’t the fetus won’t survive the chemicals, and we’ll have to manually remove the materials." The way he referred to my son’s murdered body as ‘materials’ was the most disturbing thing I’d ever heard.
"You... you all conspired to kill my son..."
"It’s a fetus, not an actual human yet."
"Jack will kill you, Palmer. He’s going to kill you, and I’ll help him."
"I understand you’re upset, but in time you’ll see I’m doing you a favor. You’re much too young for motherhood, and boys like Jack Napier don’t stick around. You’d have been stuck raising his bastard child. Here, I think you could use a little more sleep." Before I had a chance to fight him off I felt the needle stab my thigh.
"Fucking kill... you..." I slumped asleep again.
**********
It had been a week since Jack had seen Scarlet. His parents had picked him up after the theft charges couldn’t be proven. The police had formally informed him and his parents of the restraining order Scarlet’s parents had imposed on him. In a fit of childish rage, his father had filed a counter order out on Scarlet. For the first time in his life his parents had kept close tabs on him. Not knowing if Scarlet was okay was making him crazy. He paced the length of his bedroom like a caged wolf. He refused to eat. He couldn’t sleep. Finally, his father had to leave on a business trip.
As soon as his mother passed out, Jack snuck out of the house. He couldn’t see any new security measures as he climbed the fence onto the McClure property. It was late, and the house was dark. He climbed the trellis all the way up to the ledge of the attic floor. There was a custom radial window that tilted open. As usual, it was unlocked. Jack scooched in on his belly and climbed to his feet. It was dark and quiet in Scarlet’s room. He eased across the floor until he could make out her form huddled on her bed. "Scarlet? Are you alright?" His voice shook.
"Jack?" Her’s trembled, too.
"Let’s make a run for it, beautiful..."
"Jack, I... I can’t. Not now. Please, you should go. If they hear you, they’ll have you arrested."
"Fuck them. We can go now. The apartment’s still waiting, and they never found out about the account..." She was weeping now.
"Just go, Jack." Her refusal made something inside him curl up and die, but he couldn’t let it go. He wasn’t going to let her dismiss him. She had to still want him!
**********
Dr. Palmer’s assessment was right. That very night I’d come up out of the drug induced stupor with the worst cramps I’d ever had in my entire life. What disturbed me the most was that I didn’t quite remember everything that had happened. I remember screaming louder than I’d ever screamed before. I could smell the metallic scent of too much blood, and I recalled hearing Dr. Palmer grumble about a ‘stubborn little bastard.’ There had been a sloppy slurping splash, and I’d glimpsed a reddish orange biohazard bucket. They’d been giving me shots every day since then, and, though I was awake, I didn’t really feel much. I knew I should have felt angry and devastated at my loss, but I only felt empty and eerily calm. I was pretty sure Dr. Palmer had taken my baby and my soul.
I didn’t know how many days and nights had passed when I heard the window squeak open. I should be happy Jack had come, but I didn’t even want to look at him. How could I tell him the truth? He practically begged me to run with him, but I was numb. When I heard him finally retreating I almost felt relieved. Until I heard him panting and hissing in my bathroom. Slowly, I eased up out of bed. I heard something clatter in the sink, and when Jack laughed I couldn’t tell if it was a sob or a laugh. I turned on the light as Jack stumbled out of the bathroom hunched over at the waist. He spat violently, and I was overcome with the odor of blood. He raised his head, and at first all I could see was the blood covering his mouth, spilling down his chin and throat onto the front of his t-shirt. "How’s thish? I’ll ‘e The Crow for ‘ou. Ish that enough for ‘ou, Shcarlet?" Bits of flesh and splatters of blood shot from his mangled lips as he struggled to speak. I could feel the tears spilling down my cheeks as I embraced him.
"I love you, Jack. Let me fix you up, then we’ll go." I told him. I pulled him with me to my bed and took out my sewing kit. As I stitched at his gaping wounds Jack laughed. His cackles alerted my parents. My mother actually fainted at the sight of me pulling a darning needle through Jack’s skin. "Father, I think I got this side a little uneven. Can you hand me the scissors so I can start again?"
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Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?